This time the previous year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
